My sister, her husband, the two kids and I went to the county fair this week. My sister and her husband live in a large West Coast city. He’s originally from the New Jersey suburbs.
Boulder County is becoming increasingly urbanized, but it’s still refreshingly rural compared to, say, San Mateo or Fairfax.
We went in the evening, when it was just starting to get crowded, which meant we parked in the second row and four or five people were actually waiting for tickets in front of us.
We went down the row of food vendors – funnel cakes, corn dogs, buffalo burgers – and into the animal barns. Rows of cages with prize-winning lop-eared rabbits, earnest 4-H children sweeping, cleaning, feeding, grooming. We moved on to the goats (which have been very noticable in Boulder recently as weeding teams), then outside to the swine. Swine were being judged even as we watched.
My brother-in-law was slack-jawed with amazement. “What’s 4-H?” my sister asked.
Next we checked out the exhibit building. Quilts, clothing, artwork, pies, cookies, jam, preserves, vegetables.
And finally, to the great relief of my children, the carnival rides.
Boulder County Fair photo essay.
